


Here We Stand or Here We Fall

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: 666 Fics [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Banter, Bellamy as Wonder Woman, Clarke as Batman, Found Family, Friendship/Love, Harper as Hawkgirl, Lincoln as Martian Manhunter, Monty as Green Lantern, Multi, Murphy as The Flash, Roan as Aquaman, Slow Burn, Vignettes, Wells as Superman, but specifically the comics and the Cartoon Network Animated Series, i have VERY strong feelings about this, justice league au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: “What’s your name?” Clarke asked, sticking the little device into the corner of her mouth as the beeping began to speed up. She glanced down at the fight below - they must be a nearly a hundred feet up, at least, and Bellamy's arms were the only thing keeping her from certain death. Not a position she was used to being in.“Bellamy. I’m from-”“We’ll talk later, right now, Bellamy, I need you to drop me.”“What?”“Just drop me, don’t worry about it.”“I just rescued you, I don’t even know your name, and you want me to let you fall to your death?” Bellamy asked, brows drawn together in alarm.She let go of his shoulder, swinging her arm back around to tug on the edge of her cape, looking over at him as she attempted to extricate herself from his grip. “I’m The Bat. Thanks for the save. Nowdrop me.”The Justice League Fusion I wrote because I literally cannot help myself, told as little vignettes.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre
Series: 666 Fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1498343
Comments: 35
Kudos: 82





	Here We Stand or Here We Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been in my back pocket FOREVER!! 
> 
> My first ever "ship" (although I didn't realise it until I was older) was Batman/Wonder Woman (wonderbat) in the Cartoon Network Justice League series, and upon my annual halloween rewatch of the show a couple of years ago, I realised their dynamic is very bellarke, and, well,,,,, here we are skjghdkfhgksdfhgdf
> 
> but, because the show is coming to an end, and because I've had this entire vague idea floating around my WIPs for forever, I didn't want to do this as a normal, straightforward story, so every chapter is going to be kind of a little vignette from each character's perspective. Sort of like one big goodbye to every character, if that makes sense. Bellamy and Clarke are obviously a focal point of this fic (at the moment they have two each, one at the start and one at the end, bookending the fic) but every other character I love will get their own chapter and moment to shine, because I'm going to miss them. 
> 
> *******I LIED, THIS SHOW KILLED MY DESIRE TO DO LOTS OF CHAPTERS, SO THIS WILL NOW JUST BE TWO CHAPTERS WITH BELLAMY'S POV CHAPTER HOPEFULLY WRAPPING THINGS UP WELL. I'M SORRY I REALLY WANTED TO DO MORE BUT MOST OF THE OTHER POVS ARE ONLY HALF DONE AND I REALLY DON'T HAVE THE MOTIVATION TO FINISH THEM. BUT I *LOVE* THIS CONCEPT AND I REALLY WANTED TO FINISH IT PROPERLY, SO BELLAMY'S WILL HOPEFULLY BE GOOD ENOUGH TO WRAP IT UP**** <3
> 
> I hope that makes sense!
> 
> title from Hammer to Fall by Queen because HELL YEAH IT IS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke had never really played well with others, but she supposed the imminent alien invasion was as good a time as any to branch out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was SO happy when [@clarke-the-ferrari ](https://clarke-the-ferrari.tumblr.com/) requested this as her pick on my Unfinished WIP List for my 666 fic and I feel sort of honoured that this is the last fic I've posted from that celebration, considering it was probably the first one I started from that list :') 
> 
> Anyway, thanks Lydia, you're a gem and I hope you like it!! <3

Clarke was perched on a ledge, overlooking the two-storey building at the edge of the city below her. Sanctum City was draped in shadow, hiding her from view, and she adjusted her grip slightly, leaning further out into the open air to see the people below a little easier.

Today had been quiet – too quiet. Usually there were a few petty thieves or domestic disturbances to overlook, but today had seen no action at all. The Joker was in Arkadia Asylum, Two-Face was in jail and Catwoman wasn’t even on the same continent; stealing jewels somewhere in Europe, probably. Gotham looked like the picture of a peaceful city. She should be relieved, but instead, she just hunted harder; the silence had never been particularly comforting to her. There was always _something_ to find out, something to fix.

Which was why she was staring down at a small astrological research company, wondering why their radiation output had been so high in the last few weeks. It wasn’t something she’d usually investigate, but because of the unusually quiet day, she actually had time to scope it out herself.

“Okay, I’m here, what’s the deal?” Clarke asked, leaning further out over the edge.

“Their radiation levels are inconsistent with ones usually outputted by _nuclear plants,_ let alone small astrological research bases. It doesn’t check out,” Raven said, her voice quiet, even in the earpiece.

“Raven, where are you?”

There was a shuffling sound, and then something like metal on china, “I’m–”

“–in the dining room, eating dinner.” Kane’s voice said. “Like you should be.”

Clarke suppressed a sigh, catching sight of a group of people leaving the building together and walking down the street, turning into a dark alley. She crept along the ledge until she had a view of the alleyway and frowned. They were just… walking into the shadows. It was strange.

“Raven how much info do we have on the people working here?”

“Loads. They’re squeaky clean,” Raven replied, talking around her mouthful of food, “Why?”

“I’m… not sure yet.”

“Did you hear me, Clarke? You should be at home, eating. There’s nothing out there tonight,” Kane tutted, the familiar argument already something they discussed far too frequently. It worried Kane how little sleep she got, how often she threw herself between civilians and danger, how infrequently she ate. He was her butler, but more than that, he had been her parent’s friends for years, long before she was born, and it seemed their parental worries had been passed to him when they died. She didn’t mind it, not really, but on nights like this, it was more than a little distracting.

“You’re only saying that because you want it to be true.”

“Is that really so awful?” He asked, and she had to admit that it wasn’t. “Sometimes, a quiet night is just a quiet night, Clarke. There’s not always something waiting to attack you in the dark.”

“I’m fine, Kane, if I don’t see anything in the next five minutes, I’m headed home,” Clarke said, but barely a second after the words left her lips, she watched the people in the shadows leap to the top of the two-storey building in a single jump. They weren’t in lab coats anymore, but dark bodysuits with strange helmets. They started running to the other end of the roof, and flipped to the next one, seemingly headed somewhere in particular. “Ah… about that…”

He made a small noise of discontent, but he clearly knew there was no using in arguing. “I’ll leave some lasagne in the microwave.”

“Thanks Kane. Get some sleep,” Clarke said, and pulled her grappling gun from her belt. She pointed it at a tall building the next street over and fired. Once it was clinging to the edge of the roof, she leapt, swinging across until she was keeping level with the speed of the three people sprinting across rooftops below.

She was pretty certain she heard Kane grumble something like, _“you’re going to be the death of me,”_ but she ignored it.

She followed the quick-moving shadows until they passed the city limits and finally stopped in a small clearing.

Clarke perched among the branches of the trees, staying out of sight, but as she moved, one of the branches snapped - far too loud in the silence of the forest.

Before she had a chance to sneak closer, one of their heads shot up, alert, and she knew instinctively that she’d been rumbled. She readied herself for a fight but before she could even step into view, something glowed green, and then a flash of light engulfed the clearing and five more figures walked out of it. The three scientists she’d been following stepped back through the approaching line of what appeared to be soldiers, and vanished into the green swirl before it folded in on itself and the sky once again plunged into darkness.

Luckily, the darkness was where she did her best work.

She leapt from the trees, twisting in the air and throwing three stun batarangs towards the line. Shockwaves rippled out but when she looked back as she swung up towards another tree, it was clear they didn’t make a dent.

The figures hadn’t even moved.

Four of them cocked mean looking guns and aimed them in her direction, and the other one pulled out some kind of laser and pointed it. She barely had the time to think before she realised what it was for, and suddenly the rope she was swinging on went slack and she slammed into the dirt. They surrounded her, weapons drawn, and she flicked her batarangs up from _stun_ to _blast_. Not a setting she had to use very often, but this felt justified.

She flicked one of them into the air, but one of their guns went off, shattering the shuriken before it could do anything.

Shit.

One of them punched down and she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding it, only to roll right into the path of an oncoming boot.

She twisted away, scrambling to her knees and preparing for a fight.

She had the distant thought that she might be outnumbered here.

“Need a hand?” A familiar voice said from overhead, right before a tree trunk went barrelling into two of the figures, exploding around them in a haze of wood chips. Clarke pushed herself to her feet, arms up to defend herself. Sometimes she really did wonder if he could read minds, considering how often he appeared right in her moment of need, but according to him, that was one of the few powers he _didn’t_ possess.

She glanced up to see Wells hovering over her, another massive tree already lifted over his head, cape billowing in the wind.

“I’m fine, actually,” she deadpanned, and he grinned down at her.

“I’ll just go then, shall I?”

“Probably for the best, yeah,” she said, and one of the figures leapt towards her. She ducked, spinning under his arm and throwing her grappling hook around another, yanking the wire and using the momentum to pull herself out of the centre of the circle, kicking off the back of the nearest guy.

Wells took the cue and launched the trunk at the group, and Clarke followed it with another flick of the grappling wire, wrapping it around the figures. She yanked, trying to pull them off balance, and stepped backwards into something hard. She stumbled, pushing herself up on the ridges of whatever it was, and within seconds that green light had engulfed the clearing once more, blinding her completely.

She blinked rapidly, eyes watering as the world came back into focus, and Wells touched down on the grass beside her, noticeably less affected. “You alright?”

The clearing was empty but for the two of them; it was like the figures had never existed.

“Fine.” Clarke dusted off her suit. It was going to take a while to get rid of the wood chips from the creases, but it was better than being dead. “You?”

“Confused, mostly. Where did they disappear to?”

Clarke shrugged, relaxing slightly now that the obvious threat had passed. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I was in town.” Wells said, light, and she didn’t believe it for a second, but she appreciated his arrival all the same.

“Thanks for the save.” Clarke said, adjusting her cowl. She wasn’t sure why - she’d known Wells Jaha for almost as long as he’d been superhero-ing around Polis, and he’d known her identity for at least the last couple of years. “It’s nice to see you, Wells.”

“Bats,” he grinned, “how goes the good fight?”

“Not as good as yours, Power Boy.”

He made a face at her - he hated it when she teased him about his name. In her defence, _Powerman_ wasn’t exactly the height of linguistic achievement, but in _his_ defence, he didn’t choose it. “How’s your sidekick?”

“If she hears you calling her a sidekick, your chances of dating her are slim.”

He snorted. “I appreciate that, but I’m married.”

“I know.” Clarke checked her utility belt - she was running low on smoke grenades. “Now why are you really here? You’re not on my turf because you wanted to help me with some normal lab thieves. Or, well, they looked that way when the night started.”

He shrugged a shoulder, sheepish. “Actually, I kinda did. You’re not the only one who’s had a run-in with those guys. Red and Lantern have both had similar experiences in their cities too. Strange figures passing themselves off as scientists sneaking into places and stealing - Lantern’s day job is in a biochemistry lab, so he was the first to notice; he was working late and three figures came in that he didn’t recognise, and when he confronted them, they attacked him. Red stumbled across them on one of his nightly patrols across the river. Something’s going on here.”

“Not an isolated incident…” Clarke tilted her head, brain whirring. “Interesting.”

“You didn’t know? The All-Seeing Bat didn’t _know?”_

“I’m not omniscient, Wells.”

“Coulda fooled me.” He grinned, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Yeah, but you’re gullible,” she smirked, and he made a faux offended expression. She waved a hand - a joking apology - and his face fell into an easy smile as she turned to face the thing she had fallen on.

It was an orb of some kind, made out of some strange type of stone, and it was covered in strange hieroglyphs.

“What is it?” Wells asked.

“Don’t know, but judging by how quickly those figures disappeared, I’d say some kind of transport device. But it’s _way_ too advanced for us, there’s no way anyone has tech like this on Earth. We’re years away from creating any kind of teleportation.”

“And you would know - isn’t GriffinTech the leading name in advanced science right now?” Wells raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, if I don’t put my money where my mouth is, what’s the point of being rich?”

“Nice cars… mansions… designer clothes,” Wells rattled off.

She elbowed him. “You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“I know. You’re a weirdo, you know that?”

“It has been pointed out.” She unhooked a torch from her bet, aiming it at the anomalous stone. “You’re an alien - you recognise any of this?”

Wells made a face at her. “That’s rude.” But he scrutinised the orb anyway, frowning at the symbols before shaking his head. “No. It’s similar to a few languages I’ve come across, but it’s closer to most human symbology than any alien linguistics.”

Clarke leaned closer to one side - he was right, some of the symbols did look more like the old Greek alphabet than any alien writing she’d come across - and she reached out to touch the letters.

The second her fingers made contact with the symbols, a green wave blasted outwards, throwing them both back.

She slammed into a tree and dropped to the ground, rolling to her feet. Wells was up too, rubbing his head and looking for her. She lifted a hand, letting him know she was fine, but before either for them could speak, another green vortex began to spiral out of the orb. The light hurt her eyes, but she squinted through it, and she thought, just maybe, that there might be something dark in the centre. It seemed to be coming towards them.

 _Fast_.

“Oh for fuck’s-”

Clarke’s exclamation was knocked from her throat as a figure barrelled into her, tackling her to the forest floor.

She was getting real tired of hitting the ground tonight.

 _“Stay down!”_ The voice seemed to come from the man on top of her, but also from within her own head, and it made her flinch. She didn’t like anyone playing around in her head, particularly not strangers that thought a suitable first meeting was to slam her into the dirt. She was about to argue, to shove him off, when a series of laser blasts ricocheted over their heads, and the guys arm curled around her head, keeping it protected.

Huh.

The gunfire was incessant, and it struck her that she couldn’t see Wells-

 _“He’s fine,”_ the voice said again, definitely inside her head this time. _“They think we’re hit, so I need you to be really still, okay?”_

“What’s the plan?” Clarke projected the question out, keeping her lips firmly closed.

_“Help is on the way.”_

“Well, that’s helpful. Not cryptic at all.” She took a deep breath as the last of the shots echoed around the clearing. Her hand was concealed by her cape and she moved it closer to her belt, reaching for the clip of her belt. If she could just get to the…

“Check on them - I don’t want any loose ends!” A harsh voice barked, hollow sounding, and footsteps began to make their way towards them.

Clarke’s fingers were a hair away from her belt.

“Sir, this one- it’s Lincoln!” One of the soldiers yelled, and then the man on top of Clarke leapt up and backwards, ramming his elbows into both of the men standing over them.

Clarke took the opportunity to backsault into the darkness, leaping up into the trees for cover.

“Shoot them!”

She cursed under her breath, swinging through the canopy to avoid the laser blasts being sent her way, and looked for Wells and the new guy - Lincoln, presumably - as she snatched the device she needed from her belt and pressed the little red button. Wells was flying in a zig-zag formation above them, trying to take some of the heat, and Lincoln was fighting off six guys at once.

Lincoln was moving far too fluidly for a human, and it didn’t take too long to realise why - he twisted around one of the men, and when he did, his body changed, shapeshifted into some kind of huge serpent, curling up another three men with a flick of his tail. And yet for some reason, she instinctively trusted him, like she’d known him as long as Wells.

As if tonight couldn’t get any stranger.

Now that she had a good angle, she could see everything. There were tens, maybe hundreds of people pouring through the portal, all of them in those strange suits and helmets, and all of them armed and highly dangerous. The suits seemed to repel Wells’ lasers, and had some kind of tensile strength that made them highly resistant to damage, so brute force probably wasn’t going to work here. She kept to the shadows, observing, and when Lincoln’s tail arced through the air, shoving a line of fifteen men to the side, she noticed a slight rippling in the air around the figures - forcefields.

It was _tech_.

She could work with that.

 _“Help has arrived.”_ Lincoln said inside her head, and seconds later, something exploded near the edge of the clearing, sending a group of figures flying and dirt spraying out into the air.

Clarke’s head whipped around just as the shower of dirt cleared, and standing in the crater she’d just made with her mace was Harper, wings splayed and ready to return to the air and arms tensed for battle. She hadn’t seen Harper in months, not since the incident with Mount Weather, but she’d never been more relieved to see a familiar face.

Which was compounded when she realised that Harper wasn’t alone.

Wells was in trouble, about to be hit by a blast from some kind of canon, when a green streak curved across the sky, a shield appearing from thin air in front of him, with a trail leading back to The Lantern, who was both creating the shield and sending something hurtling towards the canon. From where Clarke was perched, it looked like a giant cartoon fist. It slammed the canon so hard it sank into the dirt and a green _WHAM!_ appeared above it in a comic book bubble, which made her shake her head in amusement even as she crept closer to the portal through the trees. Well, Monty had always been imaginative.

If she could just get to the orb and turn it off, or destroy it somehow, she could stop the constant stream of soldiers pouring out so fast that two figures seemed to replace every single one that fell.

There were only five of them, and they might be heroes, but even superheroes couldn’t keep this many soldiers at bay, especially not when they were in powered suits. She swung through the canopy, looking for some weakness in the armour, some way she could turn off the forcefields or fight back against them.

“In the trees!” One of them shouted.

She swore, as laser blasts and bullets started hailing through the air towards her.

She knew she didn’t have time to move.

There were too many, too concentrated, she’d never make it.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable agony of a thousand shots.

But it never came.

There was a strange ricocheting noise, and she opened her eyes to find someone hovering in front of her, arms moving as he deflected the bullets with the silver bands around his wrists. His armour glinted in the light, and his muscles rippled as he pushed back against the air and grabbed her, pulling her up and away from the fight. They were hundreds of feet in the air in seconds, still dodging laser blasts as they flew, and Clarke resisted the urge to grip onto his shoulders.

Clarke prided herself on knowing who all the supers on the planet were - from the moment they appeared, she looked into them, made sure they were on the level, looked for weaknesses in case it was necessary, and in the years she’d been doing this, she’d never come across anyone quite like this.

He was warm, despite the cold air, and his outfit seemed to be some kind of metal, but that didn’t feel cold either. He didn’t seem to be having any trouble carrying her while flying, and his arms were holding her carefully, like he was worried she would break; she was reminded of the way Wells touched things - so she could deduce he probably had some kind of super strength.

Flight, super strength, armour that repelled bullets - impressive, to say the least.

“You okay?” He asked, and his voice was deeper, more gravelly than she expected.

“Fine. You?”

He shrugged, circling the clearing to avoid the gunfire, and she used the free moment to look out over the city. It seemed to be waking up, and there was the familiar sound of a helicopter on the horizon - reporters. Reporters that were going to get hurt.

The device on her belt beeped.

She grinned. She’d forgotten about that.

“What’s your name?” Clarke asked, sticking the little device into the corner of her mouth as the beeping began to speed up. She glanced down at the fight below - they must be a nearly a hundred feet up, at least, and Bellamy's arms were the only thing keeping her from certain death. Not a position she was used to being in.

“Bellamy. I’m from-”

“We’ll talk later, right now, Bellamy, I need you to drop me.”

“What?”

“Just drop me, don’t worry about it.”

“I just rescued you, I don’t even know your name, and you want me to let you fall to your death?” Bellamy asked, brows drawn together in alarm.

She let go of his shoulder, swinging her arm back around to her front, and tugged on the edge of her cape, looking over at him as she attempted to extricate herself from his grip. “I’m The Bat. Thanks for the save. Now _drop me.”_

She didn’t give him time to think about it. As his muscles slacked just a little in shock, she pushed off his chest and fell through the air. The device between her teeth was beeping so fast it sounded like one continuous noise, the wind was rushing in her ears, and the ground was speeding up to meet her and then her feet hit metal.

She dropped into a roll, right into the open cockpit, and as she landed, the door slid closed over her. She strapped herself in, firing up the thrusters as the Batwing’s camouflage filter dropped and the jet became visible against the stars. She glanced up to see Bellamy staring down at it in surprise, and Harper grinned as she swooped into view, high enough that the soldiers hadn’t seen it yet.

“Tee ‘em up?” Harper suggested, wry, jerking her head towards one end of the clearing. Clarke nodded, but she was already diving towards a group of the soldiers.

Clarke pulled one of the controls down, steeling herself. Harper swung back around, leading the men towards the edge of the clearing, and Clarke killed the engines.

The jet dropped out of the sky, and she gripped at the joystick as she tumbled straight downwards, waiting… waiting… she was less than twenty feet from the ground…

Harper was hovering, ready, and Clarke grinned, thumb hovering over the button, “Knock ‘em down.”

Wells saw her and started flying in her direction, but he wasn’t fast enough, and she was five feet from the ground when she gunned the thrusters, as Harper shot straight up towards the sky out of the way. The Batwing rocketed forward, taking out at least thirty combatants and hurtling into the treeline.

Lucky she was wearing a seatbelt, because the whiplash from the impact could have killed her. She pulled at the controls and the plane moved upwards, still taking out trees as it went until she was back in the sky and free of resistance. She overshot it slightly, spinning up into the sky, but she quickly got it back under control and returned to safe airspace. Her risky manoeuvre had made the clearing twice as large, giving them more room to breathe, and it had knocked out a good chunk of the enemy’s soldiers.

She could hear Harper’s yell of triumph through the glass, and she was pulling back around when Wells appeared on the left wing of the plane, knuckles rapping against the cockpit. “That was reckless, you could have been killed!”

“You’re welcome,” she said, folding her arms defiantly.

He rolled his eyes at her and took off back towards the battle, shouting, “We’re gonna have a long conversation about your sacrificial tendencies when this is over!”

“Not likely!” Clarke called after him.

She looked out over the battle, fingers curling around the triggers of the jet’s guns.

Wells seemed to be holding his own, Lincoln was holding off a group of them on the side of the clearing closest to the city, and Harper was staying high enough off the ground that they’d be hard pressed to get ahold of her, and Bellamy seemed to be right in the centre, carving a pathway through them on his way towards the guy who appeared to be the leader, standing beside the orb, but Monty was nowhere to be seen.

“Lincoln?” Clarke asked, projecting her thoughts out towards him. “You got eyes on Lantern?”

Lincoln’s body turned transparent and the soldiers running at him from different directions all slammed into each other. He closed his eyes, reaching out, as all the figures scrambled over each other in confusion, trying and failing to hit him. _“He’s held down on the edge of the forest, some of the soldiers broke through to the street.”_

“On it,” Clarke made a sharp right and sped towards the city, reaching the street in seconds.

Monty was backed against an apartment building, trying to keep energy shields over every single window and also protect himself, and he was succeeding, but it was clear he was getting tired.

Clarke looked out over the soldiers - thirty of them, maybe more, all shooting towards a civilian building, with only Monty’s powers to stop them. They were fanned out, so she couldn’t just shoot them once and be done with it.

She made a low pass, blasters going, and they scattered, turning their own lasers up towards her. That gave Monty a few seconds reprieve, at least, but it wouldn’t last.

“Okay,” she muttered, unclipping herself from the seat and pressing the lever to open the cockpit. She set the Batwing back on autopilot and readied the guns. “This better work.”

She took a running jump off the front of the jet, somersaulting towards a cluster of men and taking them down with her. She rolled to her feet the second she hit the ground, in time to see the Batwing start shooting at the soldiers on her other side, keeping them back.

Monty looked relieved, but they didn’t have long to celebrate, because another massive group burst from the treeline, marching towards another building.

Clarke cursed, sprinting towards the group, punching and kicking assailants aside as she went, not sure what her plan was but desperate to stop them from getting to the innocent civilians.

She tossed a few stun grenades towards the crowd, dropping to her knees and sliding under the sword that swung her way, and used the momentum to take the next guy out at the knees.

The Batwing was keeping the other soldiers off Monty, but that left her completely without backup in the middle of a swarm of suited up people, and she lashed out at the nearest person, flipping up and over him, standing up on his shoulders and driving him into the ground as she jumped off, landing on the next two.

“Clarke!?” Raven’s voice suddenly crackled into her ear. “What the fuck is going on?!?!”

“Little-” a fist smashed into her cheek and she grunted, elbow flying towards the source and landing with a satisfying crunch, “-busy, Rae!”

“I can see that!”

“What?” Clarke dove out of the way of the motorbike they sent her way.

“You’re on the news, Griffin!”

“And losing, apparently,” Kane said dryly.

Clarke flipped backwards off her back and armed herself with two batarangs, one hand up, beckoning for the soldiers to make a move. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Marcus.”

The men charged forwards, and then something strange happened.

A gust of wind blew past, and two of the guys at the front disappeared.

The army faltered for just a moment, but quickly surged ahead again, and they were almost at Clarke when it happened again, and an entire line of soldiers ended up on their asses on the cement.

“What-” Clarke asked, and then a hand yanked her out of the way of a laser blast and then streaked away, knocking people down as it moved.

“Hey Bats, how’s it hanging?” A familiar voice zipped by, taking one of the soldiers with it, and she struggled not to roll her eyes. That was probably unprofessional. And a waste of time, considering she was trying to fend off some kind of super soldiers at the mouth of some kind of green vortex. When did her life get so weird? Time was, she used to fight regular criminals in one city, and now she was travelling with superheroes to fight aliens.

“Oh good. _He’s_ here.” She said, dry.

She’d bumped into The Streak a few times over the last couple of years - he stuck mostly to Tondc, which was just across the river from Sanctum City - and he was a sarcastic asshole with a bit of an ego. His real name was John Murphy, and he had been through one bad thing after another before finally being in an accident that granted him superspeed and deciding he could use the powers to help other people out of the very situations that he’d been stuck in. She’d been nervous about him at the start; he seemed the type to use those abilities for evil, but she was quickly relieved to discover he wasn’t. And she liked him a lot, although she’d never tell anyone - she had a reputation to uphold.

“There’s no need for the tone,” the voice sped past in the other direction, knocking down another figure. “We’re all friends here.”

“Since when?” Harper flew overhead and dropped an unconscious figure before she spun up towards Monty, who was looking like he was about to lose consciousness, and started attacking the men who were shooting at him.

“Is this cause I hit on you that time with the dinosaurs?” The Streak called out to Harper, speeding through the crowd and taking out men one by one.

“No, it’s cause you _keep_ hitting on me, Red,” Harper said, throwing her mace towards him, and when he zipped out of the way, it smashed through six of the men who’d been behind him.

“Fair enough,” he slowed down long enough for Clarke to see his wolfish grin, and then he was off again, and soldiers were being thrown aside from every which way.

One of the men landed at Clarke’s feet, unconscious, and she looked him over, rapid, lifting him up so she could look at the suit. There seemed to be some kind of clasp at the bottom of the helmet, and the helmet seemed to be the thing controlling the forcefield. She yanked it off the guy’s head - he looked almost human, if a little paler, - and straightened, gripping it in one hand while her brain buzzed; she had half an idea.

“Red!” Clarke yelled, looking up in time to see the canon being pointed towards her. “Shit,” she muttered, leaping sideways, but she didn’t hit the ground.

“For the only mortal here, you’re pretty good at running headfirst into danger.” Bellamy said idly, like he was commenting on the weather. Like there wasn’t a battle for the planet happening all around them. Bellamy had caught her in midair, hands gripping her upper arms as he flew her over the rows of alien soldiers.

Clarke grinned up at him. “What can I say, I don’t like to be outdone.”

Bellamy shook his head and lowered altitude, facing the canon. She understood what he meant immediately and as he flew over it, she tossed an explosive batarang right down the barrel. He jerked upwards and the canon exploded, sending debris everywhere and taking out half of the men outside of the forest. Clarke looked back towards the clearing in time to see Wells get hit with a blast from another one of those goddamn canons and cry out in pain, falling into the trees. “Drop me on a rooftop and get back to Powerman, he needs your help.”

Bellamy obliged, letting go of her a few feet above the nearest apartment building. She landed nimbly and watched him go as she set up a few stun guns over the rooftop ledge as another line of defence against the enemy below.

A gust of wind caught her cape as The Streak appeared at her side. “What was it you needed, Bats?”

“Helmets,” she jerked her chin towards the soldiers and lifted the helmet in her hand. “There’s a clasp at the back - if you can get enough of them off and bring them to me, I might be able to jury-rig them into a kind of transmitter, use it to take out their suits.”

Murphy’s lips tweaked upwards. “How many?”

“Many as you can get,” she inspected the inside of the helmet, looking for a way to get inside without destroying it.

“Challenge accepted.”

“Not a challenge,” she tutted, but he was already gone.

She ducked below the ledge, out of the line of fire, and put the helmet on over her cowl. A display lit up as soon as it was on - specs, weapon inventory, comms - and she started scrolling through, looking for the section she needed.

“Five.” Murphy said, dropping them at her feet, and then sped off again.

“...location, lasers, _links_ , there it is!” Clarke picked up each of the other helmets and began taking them apart so she could wire them all together.

“Three.” Murphy sped past, tossing them at her.

Clarke made a mental note of the comms in the suits - similar to her own, but across the entire network, which was something she could definitely work with once this mess was over - and wired her own into the cluster.

“Seven.” Murphy said, disappearing for a few seconds before he returned. “Wait. You’re not hooking _yourself_ up to those, are you?”

“Don’t worry about it, look after the others,” Clarke dodged, hooking up the last of the helmets and making sure she’d hacked into the right part of the suit. “The helmets can only be activated once someone’s head is inside - I need to be wearing it to make it work. I don’t have time to work out anything else. I should be able to reroute most of the power surge away from me. I’ll be fine.”

Murphy put a hand on her shoulder. “Bats…”

“What?”

“You lying?”

“Not exactly,” Clarke said, and then hit the switch on the inside of the helmet. Pain engulfed her and she dropped to her knees, gritting her teeth against it. She wasn’t lying - most of the power surge was routed towards the other helmets, transmitting from the giant cluster she’d created, designed to take out every single one - but that didn’t mean that the remaining electric shock wasn’t going to hurt.

Murphy flinched back, shaking out his hand in shock, and looked out over the ledge. “It’s working! The assholes are retreating!”

Clarke pulled herself up, looking over the edge through narrowed eyes. He was right - the soldiers that weren’t writhing on the floor were scrambling back into the forest, towards the orb.

“Lincoln,” Clarke reached out.

 _“What did you do, Clarke?”_ Lincoln’s voice entered her head and she flinched. Hearing her own name was almost more painful that the electricity shooting along her nerves. She knew everyone else’s identity, it was who she was, but the only person who knew her real name was Wells. Having Lincoln reach into her brain and pluck it out like it was nothing sent her reeling.

“Sent a shockwave through them; turned their forcefields inwards,” she explained, vision darkening in the corners.

_“It’s killing you.”_

“Only if it stays on too long. For now it just hurts.” Clarke said. Five minutes exposure could kill her, he was right, but until then, she could hold her own.

He didn't argue again, he simply said, _“We’re rounding up the last of them now.”_

“Just let me know when they’re all through,” she said, all her weight pressed against the bricks as she watched the superheroes chasing the soldiers back or dragging unconscious bodies towards the orb. “Red-”

“On it,” he said, realising her intentions before she could voice them, and speeding down to the ground, picking up all the unconscious aliens that remained and zipping them over to the clearing one by one.

Clarke inhaled slowly, but the pain was becoming too much, and she lost her grip on the ledge and slid down the wall, hitting the concrete with her shoulder. That was going to leave a bruise that Kane was going to judge her for tomorrow.

 _“Clarke, they’re all through,”_ Lincoln said, and she knew that was important, but her brain was becoming scrambled, and she felt sick.

“Bats?!” Murphy’s voice was a lot louder than Lincoln’s. “How do I turn it off?”

“How should I know?!” That was Harper’s voice.

“I got it, move,” Monty said, and then someone was lifting her head, and the pain abated all at once.

Air rushed back into her lungs and she gasped, yanking the helmet off and throwing it aside as she rolled to her hands and knees, muscles still spasming. Her cowl shifted slightly against her nose and she resisted the urge to pull that off too. “Thanks,” she panted, looking to Monty, who was crouching a few feet away, a green glowing tool still in his hand. It faded to nothing as he slumped in relief.

“You really scared us, Bats,” he said, sitting down and leaning his head back against the wall.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“You could have let one of us do it,” Harper said, a slight edge to her voice.

“Didn’t have time,” she muttered, regaining her strength.

“Bullshit, I’m the fastest man alive, I could have picked it up quickly.” Murphy said, sounding slightly less bothered than the other two. “Come on, Death Note, let’s get you back to the others.”

In a flash, he’d picked her up and then her feet were firmly on solid ground in the middle of the clearing, the green glowing portal fading as Lincoln tapped something on the machine.

“Will that keep them out?” Wells asked, walking over to Clarke and taking Murphy’s place, letting her lean on him so she didn’t have to stand on her own.

Lincoln shrugged. “For now. But they’ll be back. And probably with reinforcements.”

“Who are they? And for that matter, who are _you?”_ Harper asked as she touched down, wings folding up against her back. “All I know was, I was asleep and then I wasn’t, and I could hear your voice giving me directions to this place.”

“Yeah, me too. I was sitting in my favourite diner with my girlfriend and suddenly I’m halfway across the river,” Murphy said.

Lincoln looked around at them all. “I am Lincoln Kom Trikru - I am a member of a band of warriors across the Andromeda Galaxy, tasked with keeping the universe safe - originally, I was of Mars, but my people have long since been lost to time. I am now the last of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Wells said, earnest. He was probably the only person there who knew exactly how that felt.

“The Bardoans are a race of conquerors, desperate to own every planet, every civilization, every galaxy, and it seems they’ve recently found these gateways to Earth. They were of my people’s origin; before the war began, we were frequent visitors to this planet, but once Mars was butchered, the Bardoans took over, and they found the Stones. Myself and a few fighters stormed the compound, and we managed to hold them off for many months, but eventually we all fell. I was thrown into a cell. I don’t know what happened to the others, or if they’re even still alive.”

“So how are you here?”

“The Bat,” Lincoln said, gesturing at her. “The symbols she pressed activated this,” he lifted a medallion from under his suit, “and I was pulled through, but I could feel the Bardoans coming through a different door, and I knew we couldn’t defeat them alone.”

“That’s where we came in,” Monty finished for him.

“I was relieved you all answered the call.” Lincoln looked to Bellamy. “Especially you. I wasn’t sure my reach was powerful enough.”

“Who _are_ you?” Murphy asked, that flirtatious tone back in his voice.

Bellamy ducked his head, seemingly embarrassed at all the eyes on him. “I am Bellamy, of the Amazons.”

“The Amazons are women,” Harper raised an eyebrow, sceptical.

“They are,” Bellamy acknowledged. “I was a son of a god, cast aside by both mortal mother and my father, and I washed up on the shores of Themyscira. An Amazonian woman found me and took me in. Aurora became my mother, and the other Amazons became my sisters. They trained me to fight with them, but once I turned eighteen I could no longer remain. The island was not mine to live in, so I returned to the gods, offering my services. They looked down on me, but they didn’t kick me out again; I was too powerful to blend in with the mortals. So I was passed around as an apprentice to Hephaestus, Ares, Hades, for a few years, which was where Lincoln’s message found me.”

“And they just… let you go?” Harper asked.

I’m sure any other God might have punished me for insolence, but Hades has never been one for rules. He made me a door and sent me through it, with the armour Hephaestus had created for me for just such an occasion.”

“This is insane.” Murphy said. “Anyone else think this is insane?”

“Regular Thursday, for me,” Monty deadpanned, earning a superspeed punch to the arm.

“I arrived in the nick of time, it seems.” Bellamy’s gaze caught on Clarke for a moment. “It is amazing to see so many working together for good. I’m used to seeing only unrest or apathy on Olympus.”

“We do work well together,” Wells admitted, a pensive expression crossing his features. Clarke hated that look; it meant that he was about to come up with something that was going to annoy her.

“Who are you all?” Bellamy asked, curious.

Harper lifted her mace, her version of a polite wave, “I’m Harper, but my _superhero_ name is Harrier - it’s a type of bird. Mostly, I prefer Harper, but the papers do like to take bad ideas and run with them.”

Clarke smirked against Wells’ shoulder and he elbowed her, shifting his weight as he whispered, “Not my paper, Griffin.”

“I’m The Lantern,” Monty said, wisely choosing not to reveal his real name. “I have a magic ring.”

“Cool.” Bellamy grinned.

“I’m Powerman - not my personal choice of moniker but we get what we get - I’m an alien, like Lincoln, planet destroyed, like Lincoln. I’m here to protect this planet as best I can.” Wells said.

“The Bat,” Clarke chimed in. She didn’t elaborate.

An awkward silence permeated the group as Bellamy stared expectantly at her, waiting for something else, and the others knew it wouldn’t come. She was used to people avoiding eye contact with her, especially considering the mask made it hard to see her eyes, by design, but Bellamy was looking like he could do it all day, and it unnerved her slightly.

“I’m The Streak, but these assholes mostly call me Red,” Murphy sped forward, hand outstretched to shake Bellamy’s when he appeared directly in front of him. “I’m fast.”

“I can see that,” Bellamy shook his hand, eyeing it carefully like he expected it to run away.

Clarke looked over at the stone. Lincoln had locked it, but a race as intelligent as the Bardoans, with technology like she’d seen today, it wouldn’t take them long to break that lock. A few months, at most. And Lincoln said they would bring reinforcements. She shuddered to think what those would look like. She dimly registered that the others were talking, trading battle stories and checking in with each other, but she was too busy thinking about what needed to be done.

Wells nudged her lightly and she zoned back in.

“You good?” He asked.

She straightened up, taking her own weight, if a little shakily. “Fine. Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine, Power Boy.”

“Are you staying?” Monty looked to Bellamy and Lincoln.

Lincoln inclined his head. “I have nowhere else to go, and this planet looks like it needs another protector for the time being.”

Bellamy scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t…”

“But you will.” Lincoln said.

Clarke laughed. “On this planet, it’s considered impolite to go rooting around in people’s heads, Lincoln.”

He glanced over at her. “I know. I’m not in his head. Just an educated guess.”

“He’s right,” Bellamy said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think I’ll stick around for a while, do my best to help. I feel like I could really do some good here. I’ll have to find somewhere to live, and I’ll need to buy some of your human clothing, but I’m sure I can manage.”

“Might need to get a tailor, buddy, you’re huge,” Murphy said, putting a hand on Bellamy’s bicep. “I mean, like… swoonworthy.”

“Don’t flirt with the demigod, Red,” Harper rolled her eyes.

“Hey, nobody said the god was off limits,” Murphy flashed a grin in her direction and she mimed puking.

“That’s my cue to go,” she said. “Bats, you need a lift to your ship?”

Clarke nodded, stepping closer, and Harper gripped her under the arms. She took off, flying back to the street where the Batwing was still dutifully hovering in the air, now with many news crews below it. “This is gonna be a mess.” Clarke remarked as Harper dropped her onto the wing.

“We can handle it.” Harper said confidently. “Hey, you sure you’re good? That forcefield really did a number on those Bardoans.”

“Fine.” Clarke climbed into the cockpit. “Thanks for the assist today.”

“Anytime, Bats,” she said, and took off into the night sky.

“Raven,” Clarke patched into the comms and heard her yell something on the other end, “I’m coming home.”

* * *

The next morning, Clarke woke up in pain.

She arrived home late, to Raven and Kane both yelling at her about “taking risks” and ranting about how she should have asked them for help, and that if they’d known, that they could have offered some kind of technical assistance or found a solution faster. Clarke tried to mention that things had just happened too fast, but she quickly realised that they needed to get their worried yelling out of the way, so she leaned against the dining room table and nodded along until finally Kane withered slightly and rubbed his eyebrow - the signal that he was done lecturing.

She spent another hour in the computer lab with Raven pulling tech from one of the helmets she’d salvaged from the Bardoans, and she’d slunk off to bed soon after. Sleep claimed her within seconds.

But she was beginning to regret not taking some kind of ice bath before she went, because every muscle in her body was screaming as she slowly sat up and popped the aspirin that Marcus had left on the side for her.

“That’s what you get for electrocuting yourself,” Raven said when Clarke turned up to breakfast, walking slowly and groaning slightly as she sat down.

She rolled her eyes, but that hurt too, so she decided to conserve all energy for getting the hand holding a piece of toast up towards her mouth. “It was me for the planet, Raven. And you’ll notice, I’m still alive.”

“It was still totally stupid, you could have been killed,” she snapped.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Wells appeared in the doorway, lopsided grin on his face and wearing his civilian clothes. He had a press badge on, which meant he was probably on his way to the mayor’s press conference about the incident the night before - reporting on his own actions. Secret identities were fun like that. Clarke was certain she’d have to listen to many debates about The Bat at the next charity gala she went to but she really didn’t want to think about that before she’d eaten anything. Wells made his way to the empty seat closest to her and sat down like it was something they always did. He was getting far too comfortable around her, ever since he’d found out who she was. “I hope you don’t mind, Marcus let me in.”

“He’s fired.” Clarke groaned, finally taking a bite of the buttered toast and feeling instantly better for it.

“You wouldn’t make it a week,” Marcus said as he passed, filling up her coffee and offering Wells one.

She tilted her head slightly. Almost a nod. “Probably not. Still. Don’t let my friends in the house uninvited.”

“What friends?” Kane patted her on the shoulder, making her wince. “I wasn’t aware you liked anyone outside of this room.”

“I think she just means me,” Wells smiled. “I wouldn’t have turned up without calling, but, well, I’ve been thinking something over since last night and I really wanted to see you before I went to work.”

“Is this something we need to leave the room for?” Raven asked. “Super secret superhero business?”

“You’d hear about it anyway,” Clarke said, gesturing for her to stay in her seat. She looked back at Wells, fingers drumming on her coffee mug. “You want to form a superhero team.”

He blinked. “Well, I… it’s not… I…”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, slowly.

“Yes.” Wells said, sitting back in his chair. He stole her second slice of toast and shook his head. “I hate that you’re always a step ahead of me. I want to form some kind of league, or alliance, or-”

“Union,” Raven suggested with a smirk. “A superhero workplace union, can you imagine?”

“-some kind of team,” Wells continued like she hadn’t interrupted. “We worked well together last night, even you have to admit it. I know you prefer to work alone, I know you barely tolerate _my_ company, let alone _The Streak’s,_ but I don’t think we can do this without you.”

“You mean you need my tech.” Clarke said. She wasn’t offended, it was just practical, it made sense. She sipped her coffee and her eyes fell shut as she felt the hot liquid all the way down to her toes.

Wells leaned forward, hand over her forearm. “No. Clarke, I mean _you_. You’re the only one of us without powers, and yet you were the first person to throw yourself directly into the line of fire, and while you know my personal feelings on that and that you should be more careful, I think that’s exactly what we all need. We need someone who knows the stakes and is willing to step up, and I think these guys could learn a lot from you. Especially Bellamy and Lincoln - I’m glad they’re here, but they’re both not used to walking among the people, standing up for the little guy, not just fighting the big threats. You - you’ve always fought for the people who can’t fight for themselves. But the others too - The Streak is too hot-headed, Harrier is too quick to strike, The Lantern doesn’t always expend his energy responsibly - they all need someone like you, to ground them.”

Clarke thought it over, letting the words sink in, and when she opened her eyes, Wells was looking back at her with a faintly pleading expression.

“I don’t play well with others,” she said.

His face fell. “I understand-”

 _“But,_ if you call me, I’ll be there.” Clarke said. “I’m not saying I’m joining the team, I’m just saying that if you need me - and considering the track record so far, you will - I’ll answer the call.”

“The track record so far being… last night?” Wells asked.

“You’re the one who said you needed me.” Clarke teased.

“That I did,” Wells stood up, thanking Marcus for the coffee. “And I meant it. Take care, Clarke. Rest up for a while.”

“Not likely,” Raven muttered.

Wells was halfway to the door when Clarke remembered something. “Wait!”

He turned around, expectant, and she tossed him a handful of small black earpieces. “Comms. For your _team.”_

Wells looked down at the devices for a moment. “I really do hate that you’re always a step ahead of me.” He said, shaking his head, and offered a polite wave as he let himself out.

* * *

Clarke was perched on the roof of the highest skyscraper in Sanctum City.

In the weeks since the Bardoan incident, the world had been on high alert for another alien attack, but so far there had been nothing. After discussing it with Lincoln, Clarke surmised there would be at least another couple of months before the Bardoans broke the lock on the Stone, but that didn’t mean crime on Earth went down.

There seemed to have been even _more_ unrest lately, more supervillains crawling out of the woodwork, and she knew the others must have their hands full in their own cities as well.

She’d offered The Ark as a base of operations for Wells’ _team_ or _league_ or whatever he was calling it - and a place for Lincoln and Bellamy to live until they found somewhere on Earth. It was a space station launched by GriffinTech a long time ago designed to rival the ISS, but Clarke father had scrapped the idea shortly before he died, not wanting to do things for money, and it had lain dormant for many years since, slowly circling the planet. Clarke had it fixed up a couple of years previously, just in case, and it seemed as though this was the perfect use for it.

Bellamy had been overly thankful, but she had waved him off, and Lincoln simply offered her a nod, knowing how she felt about compliments. She still wasn’t used to having his powers so close to her, but she was getting there, and she trusted him. Trusted Bellamy too.

She’d known them for mere minutes, really, but she trusted them both with her life.

A few years ago, she would have laughed at the idea, but now she knew there were people out there who genuinely wanted to make the world a better place, like her.

She leaned out over the drop, looking over the hustle and bustle below. She was alone and draped in shadow, right where she belonged.

Her comm crackled, and she waited for Raven to point her towards the nearest tragedy, but instead the sound of metal cracking against concrete and a yelp of surprise came through.

“Bats? I could really use your help on this one,” Murphy panted, followed by more noises of a struggle and then the sound of an explosion.

Clarke straightened up, looking towards the bridge where her city met his.

Something was on fire.

“I’m on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,,,, whaddya think??? 
> 
> comments ricochet negativity off me like Wonder Woman's bracelets

**Author's Note:**

> next up: Bellamy! 
> 
> I haven't decided the order after that, but I'm getting really emotional writing these, so we'll see
> 
> thoughts????


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